That's Why She Hides Under Her Bed
by Fish Go Blub
Summary: Most children are scared of being under their bed, it's where the monsters live. But sometimes it can be the perfect place to escape the monsters that roam the earth.


**Title**: That's why she hides under her bed  
**Author**: Fish Go Blub  
**Language**: English  
**Rating**: T  
**Warnings**: Abuse and disturbing themes.  
**Words**: 715  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own VicTorious, or any of it's characters. This is an AU, not canon in the slightest.

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**Chapter One**

She hid under her bed; her face buried in a pink teddy and her earphones blaring the happiest music she could find. It didn't drown out her father's harsh voice and threatening shouts. She couldn't stand it when he was in a mood. But it had been happening more and more since he'd been fired. Last time he'd gotten angry she'd gotten an Ipod. Before she had that to drown out the noise she would sing to herself or just clamp her hands over her ears. It didn't always drown it out, but it was better than hearing every hurtful word.

Deep down she hated herself for not swooping in and saving her mother. But she didn't want to get hurt like her mother did, she didn't want the cuts and bruises that her mother hid with make-up. Cat winced as a slap echoed through the house. It was followed by a scream. Music could only drown out so much especially when she played it low enough to hear the footsteps.

Her arms wrapped around a stuffed unicorn André had bought her for her birthday. She willed for a fairy godmother to appear and whisk her away or at least take her dad away where he couldn't hurt them. But she knew that it wasn't going to happen; just like she knew the tooth fairy and Santa Claus was her mother. So she settled on a more realistic wish, that he would forget her and storm off for another drink.

She knew better than that though. She'd learnt to count his footsteps as he stomped up the stairs.

One...two...three...four...five...

Her lip trembled and the pit of her stomach hit her throat.

Six...seven...eight...nine...ten...

His footsteps zig-zagged across the floor towards her room. The stench of beer and cheap cigarettes wafted into the room from the minute he opened the door. She tried to scoot away from the edge of the bed, but it didn't work. He grabbed her leg and dragged her across the floor.

His chubby fists grabbed her cheeks and lifted her off of the ground; the stench was unbearable. He started screaming in her face. His voice slurred, insults, slurs, stuff that made her eyes water and throat crack. After the shouting came the beating. She tried her best to hold a straight face and didn't let herself cry. It would just make him angrier if she reacted. He slapped her across the face and dropped her to the ground, kicking her. When he finished she was a crumpled heap. He tossed the cigarette he'd lit it at her catching her arm, and she finally let out a yelp. She couldn't stop the tears that betrayed her, her chest heaved as she gagged and coughed. Heavy sobs escaped her mouth. He spat at her and left, slamming the door behind him.

Her mother rushed up to Cat's room after he'd left and cuddled her daughter, ignoring the blood that trickled down her own face. Cat was always grateful that she didn't get it as bad as her mother did, she was rarely ever beaten to the point of bleeding. Cat didn't have to ask what had set her dad off. She'd left her hair dye on the bathroom counter and he'd knocked it over. She'd heard that much from his shouts. Cat's mother guided her to the kitchen and made her a cup of hot chocolate. It's what she always did. Cat sung to her mother while she cleaned the bathroom. It was almost like the good old days.

Cat wasn't stupid, she knew what would happen when her father got home. He would hug them both and give them gifts, a new CD or maybe a phone. He would tell them he was sorry and promise that he would never drink again. He might just give the bruises long enough to heal before the circle would start again.

But sometimes when she hid under her bed he didn't find her, sometimes he was so drunk that he didn't bother looking. Under her bed was the safest place. It was her shelter. It was the only chance of her being safe, even if it was only a slim chance.

So that's why Cat hides under the bed. Because one day he might not find her.

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**A/N: **Thank you for reading my story, which is a rewrite of an older story of mine.  
It was inspired by that line in The Worst Couple which just seemed slightly out of place. I don't believe that it's what happens in canon but it was interesting to write. So thank you again, and have a wonderful day.  
-Fish Go Blub.


End file.
